


Hot Steel

by Mithen



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M, Outdoor Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-15
Updated: 2010-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day is hot, and so is Clark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Steel

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [热钢](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212591) by [Lynx219](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx219/pseuds/Lynx219)



"Clark, anyone could come along and--"

His fly was unbuttoned before he finished the sentence and shortly after that he'd forgotten how he was planning to end it.  "Uh," Bruce muttered as Clark dragged him across the lawn of the Kent farmhouse, the blazing summer heat shimmering around them.  "Where are we going?"

"Not far."  With a smile, Clark hopped onto the hood of his father's pickup truck, his legs dangling in front of the fender.  He unzipped his fly slowly and shimmied out of his jeans, letting them slide to his knees.  Beneath he was wearing white cotton briefs--the kind that Bruce found dorkily unattractive until recently.  "Bruce," Clark said when his lover still hesitated, "My parents aren't going to be home from Chicago until Thursday.  There's no one here but us.  And I've always wanted to do this."  He kicked his boots and then his jeans off.  "Come here."

Bruce slid his hands under the Smallville t-shirt, feeling Clark's muscles hard under his hands.  Clark gathered him into a kiss--and Bruce yelped as one of his hands touched the hood of the truck.  The metal was blisteringly hot in the August sun, waves of heat rising from it.  "Damn.  Hot," Bruce said, putting his hand to his mouth unconsciously.

"Why, thank you," said Clark, hooking his hands into the waistband of his briefs and sliding them down slowly.  Soon he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt, invulnerable flesh resting squarely on the searing metal, smiling.  He rolled over onto his stomach, pressing against the heated steel, stretching his arms out like a cat and lifting his hips invitingly.  "Mmmm," he murmured.  "The lube is in my jeans pocket.  What are you waiting for?"

It seemed a fairly good question.

Bruce kept his hands on Clark's back, feeling heat rising in ripples all around them as he pushed in, as Clark made that little hitching sound he always did at that moment.  Bruce felt sweat trickling down his face, shook his head;  the drops sizzled briefly when they touched the hood.  He was preternaturally aware that Clark's body was all that was shielding him from the blazing metal, standing between him and incandescence.  The thought made prickles of arousal chase all through him, and he rocked forward hard, thrusting deep into Clark, into the heart of the heat of his alien love. 

The truck dipped and creaked slightly with their movement, and at another time Bruce might have found that amusing.  But now the sound of metal only seemed to inflame him more, everything was hot iron and steely heat, molten metal in his spine, blazing through him as he shuddered and spent himself.

Clark rolled over again as Bruce pulled out, stretching across the hood like a centerfold.  He sat up as Bruce collected himself and pulled him close.

Clark's chest radiated heat like a brand, like a sun, and Bruce let the warmth penetrate him, reaching deep.  He was soaked with sweat, panting, but in that brief moment he wanted nothing more than to immolate himself in Clark's arms forever.


End file.
